Coffee Break
by Time-Pirate
Summary: When Arthur Kirkland moved to London, he had big dreams and high hopes. He was going to publish a book, become a big time fiction writer, earn lots of money... He didn't expect to still be struggling to achieve that dream and suffering from writers block six months later. He also didn't expect to meet someone who would change his life in a different way.


**Chapter 1**

London; tourist centre of England, was certainly a place that tended to be a delicate taste to most people. Some will hate it, some will only visit, and others will never wish to leave.

For Arthur Kirkland, when he bought a tiny flat in the Stratford district, the last was certainly the option that applied to him. Although he had known nothing more than a tiny countryside village all of his life, he found himself itching to get away, itching for adventure, itching for bigger things.

He had first moved to Oxford for University. His mother kissed him goodbye with tears in her eyes, sent letters and gifts every week, reminded him that he can always return home and that she always missed him. It was sweet, but slightly suffocating for the young blonde.

So when he finally graduated with a Bachelor of Arts with Honours in English Literature and Creative Writing, he solidified his dream of moving to London and becoming a big time fiction writer.

However, he never expected to find himself half a year later with a dingy flat that he shared with a French university exchange student, Francis, and thirteen rejections from various publishers for the manuscript that he had spent half of his university life creating.

In an attempt to keep his head above water, he picked up a job working as a waiter in the pub around the corner from his flat, the White Horse. It just about covered the bills, but the hours were good, and he had enough free time to work on a new book, something that would surely break himself through that first barrier towards becoming a successful, published writer.

Today in particular, he had a day off from work. He had originally planned on staying in and working hard on his book, but he found himself lounging on the sofa in casual jeans and an oversized green jumper; fresh out of ideas.

It also didn't take long before Francis had returned from his morning lectures with a small group of people. A couple of familiar faces of Francis' usual friend crowd – the albino and Spaniard in particular rang horribly loud bells in Arthur's mind – and a few new ones. Soon the flat was far too crowded and noisy to work, and regardless of the attempts Francis and his friends made at engaging him in conversation, he needed to get out of the flat and just do something with himself.

He grabbed his coat, slipping on some sensible shoes before excusing himself with his laptop tucked away neatly in a black messenger bag. He headed towards the close shopping centre, Westfields, deciding that if he was going to work on a novel he may as well get out of the cold December air and go to his local Starbucks.

He had become somewhat a regular at the café. Although he wasn't a big drinker of coffee, he enjoyed their tea choices and hot chocolate on occasions. He kind of liked how most of the staff never remembered him though, having spent too long in a place where everyone knew each other and their business. He liked being forgotten at times.

Although there was one staff member who seemed to make it his duty to recognise Arthur and even went as far as to memorise his regular drink. Arthur hated to admit that he kind of liked the attention, but it was on a borderline creepy side. Hell, if it wasn't for the grating obnoxious American accent, the man would actually be rather handsome. But in the city, it was creepy to have a complete stranger be continuously nice without there being some sort of hidden intention.

When Arthur reached the café, he breathed a sigh of relief at the lack of the American anywhere in sight behind the counter. He ordered his drink quickly before dashing to grab one of the few empty seats, setting up his laptop and connecting himself to the free wifi. He shrugged his coat off, draping it over the back of his seat as he made himself comfortable and set himself up for what he needed to work. Or at least come up with some rough ideas.

He sat there sipping his tea and staring at a blank document for roughly half an hour. His tea eventually ran out and the empty cup sat forgotten as Arthur browsed his documents for a moment longer before at least attempting to look busy and typed out some old, half-arsed ideas.

He couldn't help but jump a little when a cup of tea was set down next to him, making a rather unmanly noise of surprise as he did. His head shot up to see a familiar grinning face and cheeky blue eyes smiling at him from behind thin glasses. Arthur mentally swore at the appearance of the one person he had hoped to avoid today.

"Medium, extra hot chai tea." The American drawled, looking proud of himself. "Just the way you like it."

"I didn't order anything." Arthur responded, keeping his tone blunt and his expression unimpressed. He didn't wish to engage in conversation too much, and it was weird enough that the other had hunted him out in a crowd.

"I know, this one's on me." Arthur wasn't sure if he'd ever seen the other make an expression like that, almost as if he was sheepish. The other man had always come across as overly confident and loud to Arthur that the expression almost didn't look quite natural to him.

"… Are you even allowed to do that? Give people free drinks while working?" Arthur asked, his brow furrowing in disapproval.

The bark of a laughter that the American gave grated on Arthur's nerves more than maybe it should have, causing his brow to crease more in his irritation.

"I'm not working right now, dude! I'm a civilian like you!" He made a sweeping motion, hinting at the lack of green apron. "I'm on my break. It looks like you could use one too."

Arthur watched as the other man gave him a cheeky wink at the last comment, feeling his face heat up in a flustered manner. Before he had even the chance to respond, the American had turned heel and bound out of the door and into the crowd. Arthur sat there, staring after him in shock for a long moment before shaking his head out.

While he had to admit that the taller blonde was very handsome – when he wasn't being an obnoxious twat, of course – he shouldn't jump to the conclusion that the other was hitting on him. After all, just because Arthur himself identified as bisexual, that didn't mean that every man on the planet was gay for him. He made certain in his mind that the other had meant nothing by it, but was just being a typical eccentric American and being overly friendly.

Arthur turned back to his laptop, finally acknowledging the tea that had been bought for him, a slight smile tugging at his lips. Well, it was awfully nice to have someone buy you a drink; it really didn't happen a lot these days. His eyes fell to the napkin sat in the saucer and he paused, noting what looked like writing. With curious fingers, he lifted the cup away and pulled the napkin clear to see what was there. Upon reading the note, he could feel his face heating up a little in a mixture of embarrassment and flattery.

'You could use a break, so hit me up on mine some time! We should get a drink together! ;) Call me. – Alfred.'


End file.
